Chasing the Wind
by Kreskin
Summary: The day is saved, the world is at peace, but not everyone is happy. What do you do when there's nothing left for you? Kain + Rydia fic. More to come.
1. her heart that has no home

This is a Final Fantasy IV/4 (II American) fic, set after the final battles of the game have concluded. Please note: I own nothing! No Cecil, Kain, Golbez, nothing. This is fanfiction! Duh. Enjoy!  
  
The dry, rough stone blocks of Baron Castle seemed like they were meant just for her to clasp them. Her delicate fingers curled around the corner as she stared around it intently. She felt like a small child, going where she shouldn't, yet she was drawn to this spot as she had been several times before. Down the walkway, there he was, looming over the edge of this upper story of the castle, staring out into the forested distance. His grace and balance, and furthermore the total fearlessness of heights which his profession brought on, made him able to stand right on the narrow ledge with no fear whatsoever. Yet whenever she could see his face, he bore a look almost as if he wouldn't mind if he DID fall. Maybe he already was falling. Maybe he was already dead.  
  
"Miss Rydia!" a castle guard greeted from behind. She barely kept her feet on the ground in her suprise.  
  
Hoping that 'he' had not heard the guard's salutation, she turned and kindly replied, setting a lower standard of volume with her soft reply. "Y, yes?"  
  
"My regrets for startling you," he answered, still louder than she would like.  
  
She shook her head, her green hair swishing lightly. "It's alright. Do you need me?"  
  
"Not at all," he replied. "Rather, I simply wished to ask how you are recovering from your recent ordeals, and to inform you on behalf of our castle that you are welcome to stay and rest as our guest for as long as you like."  
  
Rydia had already assumed from the nature of her hosts here at Baron that she would be as long-term of a guest as she chose to be. She had wondered about leaving, but felt she might as well stay. Her hometown was destroyed, after all, and her more recent home in the Realm of the Monsters seemed a good choice only if she never wished to return, due to the altered passage of time there. If she went back there, she would likely return a middle-aged woman if she stayed for much more than a brief visit.  
  
"I truly appreciate your kindness," she said.  
  
The guard smiled proudly. "It is nothing at all compared to what you have done for us. You will always be a welcome guest here."  
  
"Thank you," Rydia said, nodding.  
  
The armor-clad guard walked briskly off towards the Guard's Chambers. Rydia's polite smile faded. Would she stay here forever? ...Would he? She looked again to his ledge. He stood, still in his Dragoon armor, most notable due to the winglike cape that tailed behind him. His golden hair waved about restlessly in the wind; his helmet sat abandoned on the stone- tiled floor behind him. He had no weapon in sight. He no longer needed one.  
  
"Kain..." Rydia said to herself.  
  
Kain's posture changed a little. Like a cat, with a little shifting and bending of its legs to allow an incredible jumping and pouncing power, Kain suddenly shot off into the air. Rydia gasped in surprise, as he had never done this before during the times she had watched him. She could not follow his movement and was left staring at the spot he had been.  
  
"He might be back... but it doesn't matter if I wait here for him or not." Turning around slowly, taking one hand from the wall and grudgingly dragging the other along, eventually letting it slide off, she stepped inside the castle. 


	2. his aimless flight and fall

Kain's soaring form ripped through the wind fearlessly. Any apprehension about the height and speed of Jumping had passed with his childhood. The sky was like his home now. In fact, he sometimes found himself dreading the feeling that his weight was again resting on his feet.  
  
Why Jump? There was no target, no point to reach; rather, there was only something to escape. The world of land was a troubled place, as was his lot in it, yet in the world of the skies there came no dreadful surprises or inescapable fates. In the thinning air above the ever-shrinking Castle Baron, Kain was the king. Yet, ever usurped, the inevitable force of gravity began to make itself known. The ascension became the downfall.  
  
With his upper half curved and aimed downward, Kain fluidly rode each current of air, weaving about, the only predictability of his movements being their decidedly plummeting nature. There was, however, a method to the madness, and his flowing movements were much akin to the spiraling rain of a maple seed.  
  
A thought struck him. This was not the way to fight. If there was one thing he had been taught, it was the importance of gaining speed in your descent. The accumulation of momentum was the key to landing a fatal blow as a Dragoon. To straighten yourself vertically, not horizontally, to avoid wind resistance. To hold your spear with all your weight on it, for any weight ending up on your body would weaken your blow and fling you about dangerously. To keep your spear straight towards the earth as you fell, tip first, just to absorb the heat of friction into it, to add even a little potency to the fearsome rend of the attack.  
  
Through the mysterious, seemingly impossible ways of the ancients of lore, a Dragoon could reach amazing heights through his own two feet. He made the weight of the heaviest, toughest armors seem inconsequential. He made a joke of the merciless dangers of gravity. The intrigue often caused by a Dragoon's improbable physical feats is matched only by the secretive, almost religious nature of the practice, an uncommon one in these ages.  
  
"The way to fight is with the split-second impulse of a hawk, not the daylong reluctance of a gull!" he reminded himself, as if his own teacher.  
  
Plunging fiercely downward, he idly wished either to have his pointed helmet, or his spear itself, in either case something that could cut the wind instead of drag against it like his face. Squinting against the screaming bite of the rushing air, his speed growing rapidly, he looked for a place to land.  
  
"Back to where I started..."  
  
He saw a figure standing there in wait. A splash of light colors in the regal shape of a man. Cecil.  
  
Kain began to pull up, suddenly slowing himself. He managed to reduce his dive into a graceful landing, a U-turn of sorts, from which he rose slightly and returned his body to a standing alignment before it calmly stamped down onto the stone castle roof.  
  
"Always in the air," Cecil commented. He wore fine but casual white clothing, whose long sleeves and looser areas flowed in the breeze. His face was calm and passive, and his long white hair gave the tranquil impression of snow, albeit with the faintest hint of violet in its shaded spots. He was a sheer symbol of the very peace his heroism brought to the world.  
  
"You should try it," suggested Kain musingly, "although now would be a poor time to start departing."  
  
"A poor time to start?"  
  
Kain realized that his own connection to these words gave sense to them. He had flown them over Cecil's head. "You're on top of the world, as of late, old friend. Your wedding is only days away, and word of mouth abounds that you're the perfect man to claim the vacant throne of Baron."  
  
Cecil chuckled. "I'd bet good money I've heard more of such talk than you have."  
  
Kain reached back and rested his hands on the wall behind him. His hair hung partly over his face, though his earnest expression showed through. "I don't know what will become of all of that, but I know one thing for sure: we'd all rest easy knowing you were in charge."  
  
Cecil's face shined with a humble smile. His white teeth further complemented his pure, light apparel. Kain couldn't avoid the fact that the man straight-out glowed. He was, after all, a Paladin. He did look dark as a Dark Knight, and now he had reversed completely. Of course, he had always been a good person, though as the Dark Knight he more blindly followed evil commands before coming to his senses.  
  
Now, he was totally light, and it fitted him. He seemed much happier. And he seemed even more right for Rosa. They could glow together, as the saintly people they were. Kain let a sigh out, though his thoughts had traveled so far in such a short time that Cecil had no idea what could be his trouble.  
  
"Kain," he offered at last. "I still feel like our friendship is not what it once was... but you know that I have forgiven all that has happened, so..."  
  
"I know," Kain replied stagnantly. "I understand, Cecil. Perhaps what you see is not my failure as a full friend, but my failure as a full man. My transgressions against you are easier forgiven by you than forgotten by me."  
  
Cecil's eyebrows raised in dispute as his interests were pulled further into his efforts. "But there were exonerating circumstances! We all know you were swayed both in and out of your conscious by Golbez's powers, Kain."  
  
A decisive intensity filled Kain's retort. "But I let it happen!" The full extent of his emotion was withheld only by a certain limit of volume. Regardless, his words were unmistakable.  
  
Cecil's features took the form of a painful reaction, which faded to a passive, solemn empathy as Kain elaborated. "You say you were the same, Cecil. It isn't true. You followed your commands, but you asked yourself, 'is this right?' When you found the answer no, you turned away from it at personal expense. I came to the point many times where I asked myself, 'is this right?' I ultimately knew the answer was no, Cecil, but I thought I could get what I wanted if I kept going."  
  
Cecil again pleaded. "But Kain, you regained yourself! You turned around in time to save the world with us! It's no different than your flight just a moment ago! Even if you dove straight at me, Kain, I knew you would change your course and land gracefully on your feet again! I knew it, Kain! I knew you were the friend I've always known and trusted."  
  
Kain hung his head, his features largely hidden by his noble hair. His eyes were mere shadowy sockets, his mouth agape showing one row of teeth and a hint of the red deeper within. Cecil drove a hard bargain, and he knew he was not the total wretch he felt like at times, yet his guilt could not be so easily lifted.  
  
Cecil's intent demeanor softened. "Kain," he said less intently. "I forgot that I came to fetch you for dinner. Yet another grand feast has been prepared for the whole court and our various guests, and you are obviously welcome."  
  
Kain made no movements or signs of acknowledgment, and Cecil was certain he was not interested. He seemed to have grown slowly more gloomy ever since their party had returned triumphantly to Baron.  
  
"And... Rosa said she was concerned about you."  
  
The slightest of smiles formed on Kain's solid lips.  
  
"I had to assure her I'd remind you just how much we enjoy your company."  
  
"Cecil..." Kain lifted away from the wall. His greenish-blue armor glinted a bit of sunlight from the distance as the sky turned slowly pink. He scooped up his helmet and spear from the ground. "Thank you, my friend."  
  
Cecil watched as Kain took steps toward his room. The Dragoon turned his head and looked back over his shoulder. "This stomach of mine won't be content to be stuffed with such fine foods at the moment. I will consider attending tomorrow night, since I get the impression these feasts will keep going for quite awhile."  
  
Cecil smirked. That was certainly true. The kingdom was thrilled with both the local peace they had only recently recovered, and the global peace which had just been achieved. Add the wedding of two of their heroes, and the decision of a new ruler -- whoever it might be -- and it becomes clear that Baron will be a joyous place for weeks to come.  
  
A sudden gust flapped Kain's winged cape about. He looked up at the sky, noticing one cloud standing out all alone, dragging along slowly.  
  
"Hmm."  
  
He headed off to his chambers. 


End file.
